You May Also Like / View all maxioms
Why, so can I, or so can any man;
But will they come when you do call for them?
Why, so can I, or so can any man;
But will they come when you do call for them?
Now it is the time of night
That the graves, all gaping wide,
Every one lets forth read more
Now it is the time of night
That the graves, all gaping wide,
Every one lets forth his sprite,
In the churchway paths to glide.
I look for ghosts; but none will force
Their way to me; 'tis falsely said
That even read more
I look for ghosts; but none will force
Their way to me; 'tis falsely said
That even there was intercourse
Between the living and the dead.
My people too were scared with eerie sounds,
A footstep, a low throbbing in the walls.
A read more
My people too were scared with eerie sounds,
A footstep, a low throbbing in the walls.
A noise of falling weights that never fell,
Weird whispers, bells that rang without a hand,
Door-handles turn'd when none was at the door,
And bolted doors that open'd of themselves;
And one betwixt the dark and light had seen
Her, bending by the cradle of her babe.
Whence and what are thou, execrable shape?
Whence and what are thou, execrable shape?
All heart they live, all head, all eye, all ear,
All intellect, all sense, and as they please
read more
All heart they live, all head, all eye, all ear,
All intellect, all sense, and as they please
They limb themselves, and colour, shape, or size,
Assume, as likes them best, condense or rare.
The unexpected disappearance of Mr. Canning from the scene,
followed by the transient and embarrassed phantom of Lord
read more
The unexpected disappearance of Mr. Canning from the scene,
followed by the transient and embarrassed phantom of Lord
Goderich.
Of calling shapes, and beck'ning shadows dire,
And airy tongues that syllable men's names.
Of calling shapes, and beck'ning shadows dire,
And airy tongues that syllable men's names.
Great Pompey's shade complains that we are slow,
And Scipio's ghost walks unavenged amongst us!
Great Pompey's shade complains that we are slow,
And Scipio's ghost walks unavenged amongst us!